


the end of a perfect day

by diabolica



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Gen, Manipulation, Possessive!Hannibal, Pre-Canon, Therapy Years, Unhealthy Relationships, so much boundary crossing omg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-19 05:28:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29994600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diabolica/pseuds/diabolica
Summary: Having been released from hospital after her attack, Bedelia's condition requires careful overnight monitoring.What's to be done about that?
Relationships: Bedelia Du Maurier & Hannibal Lecter, Bedelia Du Maurier/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	the end of a perfect day

**Author's Note:**

> This is a missing scene from [suspicious or unexpected](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29427570?view_full_work=true) and may make more sense if you've read that, though the relevant context is in the summary. A discussion ensued in the comments of that fic about how the day Bedelia killed Neal Frank was probably Hannibal's version of a Best Day EVER. Following which, this scene showed up, kicked in the door and demanded to be written. 
> 
> Kisses and hearts to [dexstarr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dexstarr) for beta reading.

Hannibal pulls up outside the hospital's main entrance and kills the engine. He leaves the hazard lights flashing before going inside to pick up Bedelia, who is standing at the cashier's desk with the nurse who took over her care at shift change. As he watches she hands something to the woman behind the desk.

In the flat shoes she had put on before the police arrived, she looks so small. So defenceless. 

That was the point.

As Hannibal walks up he hears the nurse say, "Girl, you were _lucky_."

Bedelia inclines her head in response. She can barely speak, the tissues in her neck and throat are so swollen. Bruises, red-purple, livid and finger-shaped, decorate her skin like jewels.

"Oh, look," the nurse says as she catches sight of him. "Your man's here. He's going to take care of you now." She looks pointedly at Hannibal. "Aren't you?"

It's not the first time today someone has made that mistake. Rather than clarify, Hannibal makes a small bow and says, "Indeed." 

It works. The nurse's expression softens. She is charmed. She turns her attention back to Bedelia. 

"Now I know you know all this, but I got to give you the papers anyway." 

She hands Bedelia some papers. The top one is a standard concussion aftercare leaflet. "This here is for your concussion. And this"—she indicates the paper below that, whose heading reads "Strangulation Victim Info Sheet"—"is for your neck."

The nurse regards Hannibal again, her finger on the concussion leaflet. "Now, can I trust you to follow these instructions? You'll have to wake her every three hours—doctor's orders. It's all written down here. Keep a close eye on her until tomorrow morning. That's your job."

"I give you my word," Hannibal says solemnly. For good measure he places his right hand over his heart. The nurse smiles.

"Good," she says. "That's what I like to hear." She shakes her head. "Too damn many women coming in with injuries like these. But usually they don't get them from their patients." Her expression makes plain her opinion of men who inflict such injuries on the women in their lives.

"Here's your card back," the cashier says, handing Bedelia what looks like an insurance card. "You're good to go."

Bedelia folds the papers the nurse gave her in half and slots them into her handbag, then takes her card back from the cashier, placing it in her wallet. 

"Thank you," she rasps, bestowing a rare smile on the discharge nurse.

"You take care now," the nurse says. "And you come on back if any of those symptoms worsen, all right? Get some rest. You need it. Let your man here do the cooking."

Bedelia merely nods at this and turns to Hannibal. Their eyes meet, and he can tell she is trying not to laugh. He offers her his arm and is quietly pleased when she takes it.

"The car is just outside," he says gently. He walks her there, opens the passenger door for her. All of this she accepts with the easy grace of a woman accustomed to such gestures. When she is seated comfortably, he shuts the door and goes round to the driver's side.

They pull out of the hospital's parking area onto West Belvedere. Bedelia leans her head back against the seat and closes her eyes. Feeling no particular need to say anything, he lets the Vienna Philharmonic fill the silence. This day has played out better than his wildest imaginings, but there is one hurdle yet to clear and he is deciding how best to do so.

It's just after midnight and traffic is light, so that Hannibal pulls the car into her driveway within minutes. When the engine stops Bedelia opens her eyes, unbuckles her seatbelt. He opens his door and says, "Let me get the door for you. But first, is there anyone you would like me to call?"

He keeps his tone even, solicitous. One doctor concerned for the health of another. Mindful of her voice, he deliberately asked a question that required either a yes or no, figuring she could simply hand him her phone. Throughout the long hours in the hospital as she waited first for radiology and then for her results, she took out her phone only once—not to make a call but to send an email, apparently. Presumably telling her assistant to cancel her appointments for the next week.

After a long moment, Bedelia says in an effortful whisper, "There's no one to whom I wish to explain ... right now."

Hannibal nods in understanding. He knows little of Bedelia's private life, but enough. Baltimore is relatively small, its medical circles even smaller. If she were seeing someone—after her split from the neurologist last year—word would have got back to him one way or another. This confirms that there's no one in particular in her life at the moment. And as Bedelia knows, there is no one in particular that he need inform if he doesn't go home tonight.

Still, it's telling that she doesn't even want him to call a friend.

"I see," he says. He gets out of the car and goes round to her side, opening her door and offering his hand. She takes it, which he takes as a good sign. He walks her to her front door. All the while he can see that she's wrestling with how to handle what's about to happen. 

They arrive at her door. Once she opens with her key, she turns to him, ascertaining that he intends to follow her inside. She takes a deep breath and says, "You needn't ..."

He watches her. The light burning above the front door illuminates her features unkindly. There are deep shadows beneath her eyes. Her eye makeup is smudged and there's a small cut on her bottom lip where she has been worrying it with her teeth. And of course the plum-coloured marks on her neck.

"Indeed, I needn't," he says. "You are concerned about the propriety—or impropriety—of my being here." 

She nods, agreeing. The quirk of her eyebrow says he is presuming too much. He presses on regardless. 

"Perfectly understandable," Hannibal continues. "But you must also understand that I feel ... responsible for the situation you now find yourself in. It was not my intention to give you that head injury. When you fell unconscious, I … lost my grip …" 

He lets that sentence trail off. He looks down, makes his best effort at contrition, then glances up again. His expression, he hopes, says _Never done this before, didn’t know what I was doing._

What he was doing, in fact, was giving her a gift: plausible deniability. Memory loss is a common side-effect of head injuries. He is certain that some time in the future, Bedelia will need it and be glad of it.

"Someone really ought to look after you—just for tonight. You can set an alarm for yourself of course, but if you have difficulties waking ... " He pauses to let her absorb this. "You can see my dilemma."

Her eyes are scanning his face; she is considering this, perhaps thinking of how to dismiss him regardless. He holds his ground.

"You have a guest room, I take it?"

Bedelia inclines her head, her expression sardonic. Of course she does.

"Then I can sleep in it, wake you as recommended. I have patients in the morning, in any case, so I will need to leave by 8:30 or so." 

He had hoped that providing a definite departure time would sway her. Still she makes no sign either way, though her eyebrows have drawn together.

"You mentioned not wishing to explain this situation. I require no explanations. Can you think of anyone better qualified?" 

Slowly, painfully, Bedelia shakes her head.

"I also gave my word to the discharge nurse that I would look after you. So what's to be done?"

Her lips are pursed, half frowning. He can see that her natural independence is currently warring with his unassailable logic. He only hopes he has given her enough reason to say yes. 

After a long moment, Bedelia whispers, "Fine. Stay." 

"Thank you," he says, because saying "Good choice," would surely have him sent back to his car.

Bedelia pushes the door all the way open with a "follow me" gesture. She shows him directly to the guest room, which has its own en suite, and indicates where he can find towels and other necessities. He promises to wake her in three hours and watches her leave the room.

"Good night," he says.

"’Night," she whispers back before withdrawing to her bedroom

Alone in Bedelia's guest room, Hannibal finally allows himself to smile. He wants to laugh out loud, but there’s no way of knowing how sound will carry in this house, with its odd angles and many levels. He removes his suit jacket and hangs it in the closet, considering his next steps. 

In the morning he will investigate the kitchen, see what she has available, so that he can make her some breakfast. If the cupboards are under populated, as he half-suspects they might be, he can always run home and pick up what he needs.

**Author's Note:**

> The thing that keeps drawing me back to these two is the stark contrast between what they each _seem to be_ and what they _are_. Does anyone else want to discuss that? ~~PLEASE will someone discuss that with me I have so many THOUGHTS OMG.~~
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! You can always find me on tumblr @[plain-as-pandemonium](https://plain-as-pandemonium.tumblr.com/).


End file.
